


Best Man

by soraflye (flitterfly5)



Category: Arashi (Band)
Genre: Bittersweet Ending, Internalized Emotions, M/M, Unrequited Love, Unresolved Emotional Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-27
Updated: 2016-03-27
Packaged: 2018-05-29 09:45:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,902
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6369919
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flitterfly5/pseuds/soraflye
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Everything he did, he did for Aiba. And now, Aiba’s gone. In Hawaii. Getting married. Out of his reach, forever.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Best Man

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. I am not associated with Arashi in any way.
> 
> Previously posted on LJ.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Ninomiya Kazunari doesn’t know why it still hurts. It’s been a month already. And it’s not like Aiba ever loved him to begin with.  
  
It’s always been “friendship” for as long as he could remember, as long as they both could remember.  
  
Sho’s only known Aiba for two years.  
  
 _Well,_ I’ve _known Aiba since the day I was born._ He tries not to sound too bitter, even in his own mind. Jealousy isn’t becoming, he knows. Aiba’s never jealous of anyone, he thinks rather peevishly.  
  
The snow’s still falling, tumbling down in whimsical turrets. It’s already close to the end of January, almost exactly one month after Aiba’s birthday. Which Aiba had spent with Sho almost getting himself killed sumo-tubing in the choppy Chiba sea.  
  
“Hahaha! Sho-chan, get ready to eat my splashes!”  
  
He can just imagine the frothy laughter rising up to meet the December sun, coupled with some typically ineffectual trash talk and perhaps a playful bump or two from one sumo tube to the other.  
  
Well, he has to admit (grudgingly) that Sho’s probably a much better water sportsman than he’d ever be. And to be fair, Aiba did stop by the apartment later that day to say hi and thank him for the birthday present he’d snuck into Aiba’s coat pocket the day before.  
  
But still. He can’t quite shake that feeling of inadequacy, of failure. All his life, there had only been Aiba. He joined the baseball club because of Aiba. He bought the Shounen Jump mangas religiously because of Aiba. He began practicing magic tricks after Aiba whooped and giggled at a sleight-of-hand show on TV. He even signed up for guitar lessons just because Aiba’s name was on the list.  
  
Everything he did, he did for Aiba.  
  
And now, Aiba’s gone. Married. Out of his reach, forever.  
  
Sometimes, he wonders what it is that Sakurai Sho has and he doesn’t. Sometimes, he’ll lie wide awake in the middle of the night, knowing that the apartment is silent because Aiba’s gone over to spend the night at Sho’s, and he’ll tuck both hands between his head and pillow and stare broodingly at the city lights until his vision gets blurred by a moisture he’ll never admit to having in his eyes.  
  
Because isn’t it already enough that Aiba’s eyes are always wet and glistening like plumped buttercups under a dew-spattered morning? Aiba had been so prone to spontaneously blubbering in the days leading up to his big trip, Nino had been obliged to give him a few smacks here and there, telling him to shut up and quit crying so that he wouldn’t show up to his own wedding with puffy eyes and quivering lips.  
  
“Your mouth is already humongous,” he had told Aiba rather churlishly. “Don’t stretch it out more with your caterwauling.”  
  
“Stupid.” Aiba only smiled through his hiccups and held his hand all the tighter. “Can’t you just say you’re going to miss me too?”  
  
Sighing, Nino lets his whole body roll out on the worn couch that had been their first joint purchase after college. He isn’t worried about Aiba, really. He’s thought it over many times now, and he knows that Sakurai Sho is by far the worthiest rival out of all of Aiba’s boyfriends over the years. He had tested the man himself, after all, gone out of his way to mess with the poor guy’s head, draping himself over Aiba, pushing a drunk MatsuJun onto Sho, leaving suggestive items all around their shared apartment… It was only when MatsuJun tried to slip a hand into his pants that Sho finally cracked, and even then, he had been perfectly courteous, gently untangling his crotch from Jun’s fingers before excusing himself and making a beeline for Nino at the bar.  
  
“Please stop,” was the first thing he’d said, round eyes all troubled and dark brows all imploring. “I know you don’t like me, Ninomiya-kun. I wish you’d tell me why, because Masaki says you’re the cleverest and wittiest and most trustworthy person he’s ever known and I’d really love to be friends with you, but I’m guessing from how things have been going that you’re not interested in talking to me very much.”  
  
Nino smiles softly, wistfully. Even now, he still recalls that night, and every time he does, he thinks he understands a little better why his best friend is so in love with Sakurai Sho.  
  
“I’m not the greatest boyfriend,” the man had continued rather abashedly, and Nino had strangely not minded when he grabbed the stool beside him and sat down. “I work late all the time. I need alarms for birthdays. I don’t do handmade gifts. I… I’m really the opposite of Masaki.” His eyes had flickered in the dim bar light before settling squarely on Nino’s. “All I really wanted when I met him at that _goukon_ was to have someone to talk to, someone who didn’t know anything about numbers or profits or tax evasion lawsuits for once.”  
  
Nino remembers snorting into his rum and coke. Aiba probably never told Sho, but before becoming a brightly festooned kindergarten teacher, Aiba Masaki had actually spent two years in a proper shirt and tie as an investment banker on the second-to-top floor of Goldman Sachs. _Tax evasions, huh…_ The thought brings a brief smirk to his face. It’s just nice, sometimes, to realize that there are still a few bits of Aiba that had not yet been shared with Sakurai Sho.  
  
“And now,” Sho had looked very earnestly into his eyes, as if he had been waiting all along for the chance to convince Nino of his intentions. “Now, all I want is to look down every night and feel that god awful snore of his tickling my chest as I drift off to some distant dream. He’s so happy even when he’s sleeping, you know. It’s like his energy either has to be let out in great rockets of laughter or kept muffled around his body in snores.”  
  
They had both laughed at that, and it was then that Nino had first thought that perhaps—just _perhaps_ —he might actually owe an apology to this aberrant suitor of Aiba’s.  
  
So no, Nino is definitely not worried about Aiba, who has pretty much all the planets lined in his favor when it comes to love. It’s just that things are now going to change. After the wedding in Hawaii (which Nino was supposed to be the best man for but had made up an excuse last minute to get out of), Aiba is going to move in with Sho, and for the first time in ten years, Nino would have to live without Aiba in the next bedroom.  
  
He tries to see the bright side of it all. There won’t be any more kindergarteners visiting their apartment (he’d always hated having to tuck away his R-rated video games). No need to be careful about timing his bathroom visits either, as there’d be no chance of coming across a half nude Aiba (with a towel mussed into his semi-wet hair, no less!). He won’t have to bite back his moans whenever he relieved himself in the shower and god, won’t it be just wonderful to have a conversation with his brother Satoshi without having to keep his voice down whenever he had to confide something about his disgusting, desperate and eternally one-sided love for his best friend?  
  
It’s no use. He sighs and kicks a ragged pillow off the couch.  
  
He’s going to miss Aiba. Horribly. Perhaps even more horribly than how much Aiba is obviously going to miss him, even though he had wailed about it a lot less and obstinately refused to shed any tears on it.  
  
Because what he’s going to miss most is neither the late night karaage nor the Saturday Dragon Quest marathons. No, what Nino is going to miss most (and his heart berates himself for being so utterly _pathetic_ ) is that swift second when Aiba opens the front door in the evening and he gets to say a gruff “welcome home,” pretending, however transiently, that it was _he_ Aiba looks forward to coming home to every day.  
  
 _It’s not healthy_ , Satoshi keeps telling him.  
  
 _Well, since when did you become a shrink?_ He always retorts. Though in retrospect, it’s probably a good thing that his brother never got a license in psychiatry, otherwise he’ll be up to his neck in consultation fees.  
  
Satoshi’s probably right though. He may never admit it, but that doesn’t mean Nino doesn’t know it.  
  
 _You need to move on._ Satoshi keeps telling him that too. _He’s getting married now._  
  
 _You think I don’t know that?_ Nino snaps every time.  
  
Satoshi just chuckles. _You should go to the wedding,_ he always says. _The closure will be good for you._  
  
The closure is exactly what terrifies the hell out of Nino, but he doesn’t think he needs to spell that out for Satoshi.  
  
Instead he just waits, one hand stroking the dust off his Wii, hesitant to press power, to reconnect with his world and level up, because levelling up means advancement, and advancement means _not_ living in the past and _not_ being jealous and _not_ wallowing in that sticky pool of self-indulgent soul-destroying pity.  
  
 _Any moment now._ He thinks dully. It’s been a month, and today’s the day.  
  
Politely, the doorbell rings, and somehow, he can just see Sakurai’s neatly trimmed finger pressing the button while Aiba’s breathy voice giggles through the door like a trail of champagne bubbles.  
  
“Nino! We’re back!”  
  
He allows himself just one last sigh before going over to open the door.  
  
 _To hell with closure._  
  
He turns the handle, and immediately the room’s lit up by a smile, a squeal and a hug so tight he’s sure a couple of ribs are cracking. Aiba, that idiot, he can never stop himself babbling when he’s happy. The honeymoon was magical. Sho-chan knew so much about all the places they visited. There were wild dolphins where they’d gone swimming, and so many fireflies once the sun set! Aiba loved the beach they’d gone to. Sho-chan had found a pretty seashell and a local fishwife had made it into a necklace for them. Did Nino want to see it? It’s so pretty, and their names are on it in Sho-chan’s clumsy handwriting.  
  
Aiba finally lets go of him, and in the evening light, he catches the brief gold that gleams softly from those long, calloused fingers. Sho stands behind them both, and Nino thinks that for just one split second, there’s a flash of jealousy in those gentle round eyes.  
  
He knows Aiba’s looking him over, checking for dark circles under his eyes and whatnot. It’s not worth it, he decides, it’ll never be worth it to have Aiba worry.  
  
So he grins and with a strange relief in his heart, reaches out for both their hands, touching the cold metal on their newlywed fingers.  
  
“Congratulations,” he says, and he beams brighter when he sees Aiba smile again. “I’m so happy for you both.”  
  
Sho is holding Aiba’s other hand, squeezing it as they look into each other’s eyes, and Nino has to admit that he’s never seen Aiba blush so alluringly.  
  
 _To hell with closure_ , he thinks, this time with equal parts comfort and resignation.  
  
 _Who ever said that pretense couldn’t be beautiful?_  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
END


End file.
